Laughter Poem by Thomas Ware

Deep below the lightless waters,
Far below the heavy earth,
Lurk the nameless waiters, watchers,
Seeking for the chance to birth.

Chaotic creatures crawling cackle,
Knowing they will someday rise,
Chained but not bound by ancient shackles,
Gazing out with blinded eyes.

Gnawing, dripping, sliming,
Confined by elder rhyming.

Long ago they passed away,
From the land where they had prey,
Down into the damp and gray,
And for this we will someday pay.

Huge, immense, the titanic things,
Would fly upon their massive wings,
Over the yet-inanimate earth,
Laughing and killing in endless mirth.

Then came the Eld and forced them back,
Back into abysses black,
Though they had surely been here first,
The Eld were strong and wielded fire,
The Eld were among the ancients higher,
They cursed us down to nightmare thirst,
They cast us down but we outlast the ones who drown,
For we lived in sun, but now we wait,
In aqueous temples without a gate.

We lie in sepulchral caverns old,
Deeper ever than mankind's gold,
Drifting ever in incessant cold,
Lurking in caves untouched by mold.

Or, indeed, any natural life,
The only things down there are rage and strife,
From great beings long condemned,
Gone from transcend down to descend and defend,
Never comprehend why it was not possible to extend,
A hand, but we must ask,
Was that ever their task?
Who are the Eld, we cannot say,
But maybe friendship is only charades,
And they both just wanted to slay.